


Of princesses and treasures

by Ruis



Category: 12 Dancing Princesses (Fairy Tale), Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Fairy Tale Retellings, Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 09:52:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18808762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruis/pseuds/Ruis
Summary: Of all sisters, the only one really thriving under the princes’ spell was Ruby. Sweet, little Ruby who had cried so much for the first doomed suitor, yet who was now the most afraid their spell would ever end – Ruby was the only one who had actually done what a princess was never supposed to do. Ruby had dared to fall in love. So for Ruby’s sake only, Adamanta was sorry about what she had to do.





	Of princesses and treasures

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Missy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/gifts).



Sighing, Adamanta watched as the young man was led from the room, hanging his head and sobbing quietly. She knew he would be executed at the next sunrise, and not for the first time she regretted her father’s cruelty. She knew she was not innocent, she knew she had played her own part in the young man’s demise – yet she could not bring herself to regret even for one second what she had done. Later, when she placed the empty wine glass on the tray for the maid to remove, she realized she could not even recall the young man’s name anymore.

When had the names ceased to matter and the faces started to merge into each other in her memory? Still, she could clearly recall the first time a prince from a neighboring kingdom had been led away to his death from the royal chambers. Her youngest sister, Ruby, had barely been old enough to understand what was happening, and when her sisters had explained the situation in no uncertain terms, she had started crying. That was then, of course.

The twelve royal princesses were all named after precious treasures, and just like precious treasures they were treated – prettified, polished, admired, and in the evening safely locked away. By now, Adamanta understood she would never be free if she played by the rules. Until she married, she would stay in this royal prison, and whoever of the sheer endless supply of young, pampered men stayed alive long enough to wed her would become her next jailer after that.

She strongly suspected, though, her father didn’t intend to let it come to that. If he were serious about solving the riddle, he could have moved the girls to another suite of chambers and have their rooms examined by a skillful architect. He could have instructed the royal tailor to quit sewing all those shoes. He could even have asked the chamber maid how it was possible these rooms used up twice as much coal as any other suite in the castle. Of course, powerful men didn’t go around talking to chamber maids about heating costs when there was an excuse to kill the political competition, instead.

It had been Esmerelda who had found the passage first. The seventh princess she was, and daughter of a seventh princess too, and, well, everyone knew the stories. Adamanta had never been a superstitious person, so she had never quite known what to do with that dreamy, wide-eyed child, and she had not believed all those fancy stories her little sister came up with. Yet seeing branches from impossible trees and hearing hummed melodies wilder than anything their music instructors would ever have taught them, she had started to wonder. She doubted shy and occasionally clumsy Esmerelda could have come up with those dance steps entirely on her own.

Chrysocolleen had been the next one to disappear overnight, and Adamanta had been quick to follow. By then, most of her sisters were already past the usual marrying age, and Adamanta herself would almost have been considered an old spinster if she had been born a village girl instead of a princess. She had still been dreaming of a prince to rescue her from her life of luxurious boredom, then.

How bitter had been the disappointment when she realized that even a magical prince of her very own was, in the end, no escape. Oh, her prince was charming, and beautiful, and had a gift of dancing unheard of in mortal men. Yet at the end of the night, he’d inevitably row her back to her life in her father’s cage, impervious to anything she would say. She had tried to run once, and almost all of her sisters had as well. She remembered several desperate attempts by poor dear Tourmalina who, Adamanta suspected, would have much preferred to go dancing with a magical princess instead, yet who was caught up in the spell anyway. In the end, all ways led back to their beautifully adorned, hated chambers.

Of all sisters, the only one really thriving under the princes’ spell was Ruby. Sweet, little Ruby who had cried so much for the first doomed suitor, yet who was now the most afraid their spell would ever end – Ruby was the only one who had actually done what a princess was never supposed to do. Ruby had dared to fall in love. So for Ruby’s sake only, Adamanta was sorry about what she had to do.

The plan had come to her in one rare moment of relative freedom. To ease the pain of a pulled leg muscle, she had been allowed a day trip to a mineral spring. She had been heavily guarded, of course, as all treasures must be… And yet, the soldier had not only respected her privacy, but had also proved to be a fascinating companion on the way. He had shown her the small town she was visiting for the first time despite living so close. He had pointed out to her the workshop of a cobbler who, he explained, made sensible shoes that were durable enough to last more than just one night. Without any further comment necessary, he had escorted her to the common baths instead of the secluded area reserved for visiting nobility. It was in that moment that Adamanta had decided it would not be a prince who would break the spell.

So, in her luxurious room, Adamanta spent the day preparing to betray her little sister. From the royal tailor, she ordered a ballgown with tiny tinkling bells whose sound, she hoped, would disguise heavy footsteps following her own. From the royal gardens, she had flowers brought to her, but only braided a few of them into her hair, the pot with the leftovers intended as a place to pour the drugged wine. Most importantly, she had obtained a small wedge – to stabilize her slightly wobbly sofa, she had explained to the royal carpenter, who was dismayed at such dire news and could only difficultly be persuaded to not come right away and look at the problem – and carefully prepared the magical trapdoor so it would become stuck open for the soldier to follow her.

That night, her soldier was almost discovered several times over. Adamanta knew breaking the branches could not be helped, but winced every time anyway. She cursed inwardly when he stepped on Ruby’s elaborate ballgown – the girl hat outdone herself in anticipation of meeting her prince, again – and just felt lucky that her other sisters did not have to believe her increasingly feeble excuses. Esmerelda’s knowing gaze was no surprise to her; that girl had always known more than the rest. And Adamanta was quite sure from Tourmalina’s raised eyebrows that no, the magical branches breaking did not remotely sound like shouts of joy to anyone not distracted by love. Fortunately, or unfortunately, it was Ruby alone she had to deceive.

Adamanta wished she did not have to lie so blatantly to someone she loved so dearly. She also wished her prince would not give her that blank look that betrayed his otherworldly nature, like an animated doll rowing her over the lake, and made all the difference between a lovely night of celebration and a magical trap. Never could she even pretend to care about one of these creatures! She smiled, but only she knew the smile was for her soldier hiding in the brow of the boat, only for him. One last night she would have to hide her feelings, and then she would be free! No more trappings, no more deaths, and maybe she would even get a pair of those sensible shoes.

To her great surprise, she enjoyed the ball that night. As soon as the floating orbs of magical light appeared – amazing what you could get used to, she thought – and the music started, coming from seemingly nowhere, the magic was on. Colorful curtains moved in a breeze too much in accord with the rise and fall of the melody to be entirely natural, a breeze that also moved her dress and played on any parts of her skin it could reach. All her senses now enhanced, Adamanta became acutely aware the flowers in her hair were the only thing in the whole ballroom actually giving off a scent. All of this faded into the background and ceased to matter when the dance began.

Adamanta and her prince danced over a floor of the whitest marble, bathed in magical light pulsing with the rhythm of the dance that was also, somehow, the rhythm of her heart. She had always loved the music despite its sheer otherness, and when she whirled around, the bells on her dress somehow became a part of the magic, their tinkling becoming the beat of the song. It was an almost perfect night. She only regretted she could not dance with the soldier she had come to love in such a short time, but with the knowledge there would be more – and real – balls to come, for the first time in years, Adamanta allowed herself to actually take in her surroundings and enjoy their magnificent beauty. Still, when the morning announced itself with the first light of dawn, she was not sorry to see the magical palace disappear in the distance.

Reaching the home shore again for what she knew to be the last time, seeing the look Ruby gave her prince, not knowing that these goodbyes would be their final ones, broke Adamanta’s heart, no matter that she had known it would come to this. There is always a price, and yet… For the first time Adamanta noticed a remotely human expression on one of the princes‘ faces when he looked back at Ruby. Was it possible? Whatever those men were, of this world or not, if they could have feelings… Adamanta wished it would not make a difference, but knew it did. In the last second, she ran back to the boats ready for departure, dragging the surprised Ruby along, not caring that she ripped her pretty dress while doing so.

“Do you love her?”, Adamanta screamed at the otherworldly prince. “If you love her as much as she loves you, take her back over the lake!” In haste, she shoved her sister into the direction of the boat with more force than necessary, and it was only due to the prince swiftly catching her that Ruby did not fall into the lake. Quietly, the now only eleven princesses watched the boat disappearing into the distance, and Adamanta knew she would never see her youngest sister again.

 


End file.
